


Join Us! (Manic Laughter)

by LittleJowo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Universe, Both Ricks are just done with eachothers' shit, Comedy, Cowboys, Crack with Plot, Cyborgs, Dead Guy Farts, Morty is REALLY dumb, SCIENCE!, Summer is THIRSTY, What a wuss, a little dark, brief homophobic language, crackfic, not really canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 13:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10991742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleJowo/pseuds/LittleJowo
Summary: Cowboy Rick was just enjoying a nice meal with his family. That is, until he's kidnapped by his evil counterpart! What is his motivation?A crackfic requested by a friend of mine.





	Join Us! (Manic Laughter)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know any of that good ol' cowboy lingo. Bear with me here, you guys.
> 
> It starts out as comedy, delves a bit into the dark-ish plot, then gets funny again by the end of it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Rick took a bite from his bowl of pork and beans, the spoon dripping with the delicious food. His family was sat around the table with him, stone-faced and cold. Meals were always tense, what with Beth and Jerry always having some kind of fight or throwing in some passive-aggressive remark. 

Morty seemed to be the only one enjoying his meal. His Stetson hat was tilted back, revealing his bright, happy eyes. He practically inhaled his food, finishing it off and reaching for seconds before anyone else. 

His hand was suddenly snatched out of the air by his mother, causing the rest of the family to gasp dramatically. 

"How many times have I done told you, ya don' get ta' just take whatever you want, ya rascal," she whispered darkly, "You gotta leave some for your ol' sister over yonder." She pointed her thumb over towards Summer, who was leaning on the kitchen's window frame, on the lookout for a future husband. 

"But ma'," Morty whined, "She ain't never hungry for food! All she's wantin' is dick!" 

"Language, boy!" Jerry stood abruptly from his seat. "Ain't no son of mine gonna be cursin' in my own damn home!" 

As the argument erupted into yells and thrown beans, Rick just took Summer's portion and stuffed himself full. _Boy,_ he thought, _these are some damn good whistle berries._ He pulled out his flask, draining half of the whiskey within. He leaned back in his seat, letting out a self-satisfied sigh. 

Things went on like this for a while, everyone else's food going cold. Most of it ended up on the walls. Rick watched as a particularly large and sticky bean slowly slid down the wall across form him, and he willed it to win the race of wall beans. 

Just as his bean—dubbed "Rapido Nugget"—was about to make it to a crack that would serve as the finish line, a large green portal appeared on that very same surface. Rapido Nugget burst apart, along with all the other beans, sending tiny bits and pieces across the room. 

"RAPIDO, NAAAAAAAW!" 

Another Rick came out of the vortex, bringing with him a rather intimidating Morty sporting an eyepatch. Said Morty pointed a very science-y gun towards Jerry, then shot him dead. 

Beth and Morty screamed, Summer ignoring the scene in favor of staring longingly out the window. Rick himself pulled out a gun of his own, a mighty fine pistol he kept with him at all times. Even the bath. _Especially_ the bath. 

Rick and Eyepatch Morty trained their firearms on eachother, having a nice and aggressive stare-down. Beth joined Summer at the window. 

The other Rick watched them for a moment before smirking, his scar twitching with the curl of his lip. 

"Let's keep him." 

Immediately Eyepatch Morty shot Beth and Summer, not giving Rick any time to do anything. Before Eyepatch Morty could do more, though, Rick's own Morty pulled his gun out and shot Eyepatch Morty in the arm. The boy yelled out in pain, dropping his weapon. Morty then pointed his gun to Evil Rick. At least, where he was before. 

Both Ricks had gone through the portal, one against his will. While Morty stood there like a confused idiot—which he sort of was—the other Morty shoved an elbow into his face, causing him to fall to the bloody floor. Eyepatch Morty picked up his laser gun, inspected his own wound, then went through the portal himself. 

Morty didn't know what to do. So he cried like a sissy, his dead family surrounding him. 

[J] 

Rick woke up to find himself tied up to a metal support beam. It was cold, and his sweat stuck grossly to his back. He seemed to be in some sort of science lab. There were screens all over the walls, but they were all dim, as if they hadn’t been used for a while. Under each monitor was a control panel. He may be a Rick, but there were far too many doodads and gadgets for him to keep track of. 

He tried to struggle his way out of his ropes, but it was near impossible when his hands were tied behind his back. His feet were chained to the ground, making it so each foot could only move about two inches. 

After a few minutes of pointless struggling, the other Rick stepped into the room, proudly raising his arms as if to call out to the atheist gods. He let out a laugh that could break glass. One of his screens did in fact shatter, so he begrudgingly stopped his manic giggling. 

"Why are y'all keepin' me up in here?" Rick asked his other self, "I ain't done nothin' to piss off the Council, did I?" 

"Oh no, you didn't, 'Brokeback' Rick," Evil Rick said, the nickname causing the cowboy to roll his eyes, "In fact, you've been so much of a goody two-shoes! I thought I should break you of this. Such potential..." He stepped right up to Rick, eyes glowing darkly. 

"Potential? What for?" 

"Why, to join my army, of course!" Evil Rick once again opened his arms up wide, grinning from ear to ear. One of his rotten teeth fell out, but he didn't seem to notice as he continued to speak. "You have such nice hands, my dear." 

"Ugh, are ya one a' those queers like from the television shows?" 

"Wha-No, Jesus Christ, Rick. No. Why would you even-" 

"'Cause like, there ain't no bad thing about it, I jus' ain't interested in the lads myself, y'see," Rick drawled, "Can't say I'm awful sorry to turn a shoddy mutt like you down, though, I must say." 

"I'm not gay, Bareback-I mean...ugh," Rick's evil counterpart threw his arms up into the air and turned on his heel to stomp away, only to pause and turn back around to continue. "Look, I didn't mean it that way. I meant your _reflexes,_ " he clarified. 

Rick couldn't help but let slip a smug grin at the almost-compliment. "Well, I do have purdy good duelin' hands, if I do say so myself," he boasted. 

"Yes yes, now that that's been established..." Evil Rick paced slowly back and forth in front of the other. Rick thought he would say something to finish his thought, but the scarred man only paced. He kept this up for about twenty minutes before continuing, "Would you care to join my army?" 

"What 'army' are ya talkin' about anyway?" Rick asked. "If you mean that creepy li'l yack with the eyepatch you had with ya, I'd hardly say he be worth ten men!" He let out a guffaw of a laugh, Evil Rick seething in response. 

"You want an army? I'll _show_ you an army!" With that he moved briskly to one of the control panels, flicking a few switches and pressing a couple buttons. Soon after, one of the screens blared to life, then another and another. Within seconds, every screen was lit. Each held a disturbing image. 

On every monitor was a Morty. They were screaming as pointed, robotic arms dug into their ribs. There was so much blood and shit that Rick was surprised that it didn't completely cover the cameras. He watched in horror as one Morty's innards promptly burst from his left side. That one soon fell limp, and the arms ceased their assault to move onto some other unfortunate kid. It was disgusting. 

"Not much of an army if they can't be doin' no harm," he muttered. 

"Oh, but they can!" Evil Rick rushed over to a separate panel, picking up a device that looked almost like a large cellphone. The logo on the back was blurred out, so Rick couldn't tell what brand it was. Probably Cyborg. On the screen of the tablet was a single Morty. Somehow Rick knew it was the one who's guts were just spilled from his body. This was confirmed when he saw the tear in the skin of his left side. 

The naked Morty was dangling from some wires and tubes in a dark room, the only light seeming to come from above, although it was hard to tell with the pixelated image. A different Morty, the one with the eyepatch, walked on screen until he was standing in front of his dead counterpart. He roughly tugged the other to the ground, then started to drag him away by his arms. 

As soon as the two left the room, the camera switched over to a dimly lit hallway, which was soon entered by the Mortys. The corpse was dragged into a separate room, which the screen revealed to be filled with what looked like jail cells, only with one wall completely gone. In that sense, they were more like small, doorless rooms than actual cells. Eyepatch Morty placed him into one of them, then promptly left the room. 

No sooner had Eyepatch Morty walked off screen when the cell was lit up so bright that Rick had to look away for a moment. The flash soon died down, though, and he could easily see the horror that was Morty with the top of his head removed, revealing his mushy brains. There were many metal arms poking and prodding, taking and replacing bits of brain matter. It took all Rick had not to hurl. He closed his eyes, only to be smacked by his Evil self's sweaty palm. He reluctantly opened his eyes again. 

By now the Morty was somehow fully clothed, his wound supposedly closed, and his scalp was being carefully placed back atop his head. Rick could see that instead of a brain, he now had wires and copper inside of him. His head was quickly closed and sealed. 

After a long moment of nothing, the Morty started to wake up. His droopy eyes peeled themselves open, only to have one be hidden by an eyepatch that was tied around his head by a tiny robot. Said robot then gave him a lollipop, patted his head, and gently nudged him out of the cell. 

The new Cyborg Morty unsteadily left for a different room. This one was filled with hundreds—no, thousands—of Eyepatch Mortys exactly like himself. They filled rows upon rows of vertical tables. Some Mortys were upside down. 

Rick stared at the tiny screen in horror. One Morty was harmless. But thousands? If they were properly armed, they could easily take over the Citadel. The thought left Rick shivering. He was afraid. 

But he had an idea. 

"Alright, I'll join yer stupid army," he said slowly. This made Evil Rick perk up, dropping and breaking his tablet, although he didn't seem to take notice. 

"Oh, really? Awesome! I'll just run a few tests, take some blood samples-" 

"On _one_  condition..." 

Evil Rick paused, looking irked for a moment. "If you're gonna ask me to keep your Morty safe, I can't promise you anything. I need all the Mortys I can get." 

"No, no, no. I don't care for my Morty none," Rick drawled, "He couldn't hit the ground with his hat in five throws. Naw, I jus' wanna have some fun with this." When his evil counterpart only quirked his brow, he went on. "Let's have ourselves a duel." 

"A duel?" Evil Rick asked, "But you're all tied up." 

"Then untie me, gimme my gun, and we can do this thing." 

"But one of us would die." 

"Then don't aim to kill, boy. Jus' shoot me in the arm." Then he named the terms. "I win, you lemme go, and you don't come back to no dimension of mine. If _you_ win, I join your army. Hell, my Morty'll join too, if'n you want." 

Evil Rick thought about it for a while. It was risky, but he knew that Rick would put up a fight the whole way if he didn't do this; and he'd be fighting hard. Evil Rick didn't feel like putting up with that. 

He then went over to Rick and untied him. The cowboy gingerly rubbed his wrists, trying to regain circulation. 

"Alright," his other self beckoned to him, "This way." Without waiting for a response, he clasped his hands behind his back and turned to lead the way to an empty room. It was dusty, the only sign of recent use a few blood smears on the floor. From there he turned back to the other, extending one arm to hand him his trusty pistol. 

Rick took the gun with much pleasure, not believing his luck. Evil Rick must be pretty stupid if he was willing to just hand him a weapon so easily. 

"Okay," Rick said, "First we take three steps away from eachother. Then, on my count, we turn and shoot. First to shoot wins the duel." 

"Yes, that sounds logical. What number will you count to?" 

"Let's say five." 

With that they began, taking slow, unified steps to put some distance between them. They stopped in unison, both men holding their hands out to their sides. What Evil Rick didn't know was that, while his own gun was holstered on his hip, the other already had his firearm in hand. 

"One." Both held their breath. 

"Two. Three." Rick let out a burp. 

"Four." They prepared themselves, fixing their posture. 

Evil Rick dropped to the ground before he could even register the bullet ringing through the air. He farted as he went down. 

Rick let out a triumphant hurrah, jumping in the air and throwing his hat up high. He did a little jig, scuffing up dust and trampling the man lying dead before him. 

After finishing his victory dance, Rick bent down to loot the body. On his person were an array of laser guns and a makeup kit. 

He also had a portal gun. 

He gave a whoop, but cut himself short as he heard a loud, thundering noise coming from somewhere inside the building. He took a peek out of the room, seeing a horde of Mortys trampling down the hall towards him. There were waves and waves of them, and they piled on top of one another in their attempts to get to him. 

At the front was the only calm Morty. His eye held a wrath beyond comprehension, darkening his face and making him look like he could do much worse than any one Rick could ever dream of doing. 

Deciding that he wouldn't benefit from sticking around, Rick fumbled with the portal gun until he figured out how to munch in his coordinates. He entered the green vortex that appeared before him just in time for the Mortys to enter the room. 

The lead Morty growled lowly under his breath. He knew where the man went, but needed time to plan. Rick now knew their secret. It wouldn't take long for him to gather the other Ricks and destroy Morty's cause. All the work he'd done would be worthless. He had to act fast. 

But before he could even turn and storm to his evil lair, another portal opened up. Out came Cowboy Rick, with his Morty held firmly in front by his shoulders. 

"I like you better. You can have this one." With that Rick shoved his Morty ahead, grabbed the lead Morty, and went back to where he came from. 

Cowboy Morty stared in shock at the hundreds of Mortys that filled the room and spilled into the hallway. The Mortys stared back, unsure of what to do. Rick had taken away their master. They no longer had a purpose. 

Cowboy Morty rocked back and forth on the heels of his boots, eyes shifting around nervously. The room was silent for several minutes before he spoke. 

"Uh, h-h-howdy, ya'll." 

Immediately the Mortys reacted. Each one bent down on one knee, placing the palms of their hands on the dirty floor. They all chanted at once in their monotonous voices: "Master. Master. Master." 

Initially Morty was in shock. Master? What was going on? He'd never met any of these eyepatch-wearing cyborg Mortys. 

Then he remembered why he was here. His Rick abandoned him. He left him here, supposedly to die. Morty was hurt; he'd thought his dear grandpa had cared about him. They'd gone on so many adventures, so many hunting trips...He'd hoped they'd have grown close, both as family and as friends. With each recollection, his expression grew darker and darker, all traces of the innocence and carelessness soon leaving his face and body. 

Morty wanted revenge. 

He threw his hat to the ground—which took a few tries—and removed his vest. He undid his belt buckle, and stole an eyepatch from one of the other Mortys. 

He was going to seek vengeance. He would kill every Rick until he got to the one he truly desired. 

The old coot had it coming. 

The dead Rick gave one last fart in agreement.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know if there are any mistakes in grammar, spelling, etc. I didn't have any time to proofread it.
> 
> If people REALLY want it, I might do a sequel.
> 
> I hope to write more for this fandom in the near future. Once I have the time, anyway, haha. Until then, ta-ta!


End file.
